All the Small Things
by WeLoveSherlolly
Summary: A collection of stories written based on the names of songs, we all need a little music to our Sherlolly. Changed the rating to M due to chapter four, I will specify which rating the story is at the start of every chapter from now on.
1. The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You

**This is the first work in my new series, these are stories written based on the names of songs (not the song itself) all the songs are found on my itunes with the shuffle on :D**

**The name of the story is also the name of the song, this song is by MCR**

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><p>'We need someone to go undercover Sherlock' said Greg as he and the consulting detective walked through the doors to the morgue, soon finding themselves face to face with Molly Hooper.<p>

'Oh hi Molly sorry to barge in unannounced' Greg greeted her with a smile on his face.

'You're always welcome here Greg, announced or not' she replied smiling right back at him.

'Are you quite done with the social necessities?' Sherlock interrupted as he sat down in front of his favourite microscope, whipping out a few samples from his pocket.

Molly saw Greg roll his eyes at the consulting detective and couldn't help but give a small laugh, Greg gave her a quick wink with his eye before Sherlock could turn around and catch them mocking him.

'You're quite right in your assessment that we need someone to go undercover Galvin, but where do you suggest we find a woman with knowledge on aristocracy and who speaks French. I'm sure you know none of that kind.' Sherlock said ignoring their offending and obvious attempt of teasing him.

'Actually he does Sherlock, Ma grand-mère était française et bien connu dans les cercles français, elle même a retrouvé un acteur fameux après la mort de son deuxième mari.'

For some reason Molly quite liked the way both Greg and Sherlocks mouths were hanging open, it wasn't often she got to surprise anyone like that.

'Well I guess we have our undercover aristocrat' Greg said as he smiled and gave Molly a hug.

'Not a chance Molly can't do it, I forbid it' answered Sherlock before Molly could reply.

'Excuse me?' Molly asked as she crossed her arms in anger 'just what makes you think that you have anything to say in this matter Sherlock?'

'My family had a splendid French teacher, she can teach Sally in time for the gala next week' Sherlock said, ignoring Molly's question. 'I'll go call her right away' he said, and then he was gone.

'There's a gala tonight as well, are you in?' Greg asked Molly when he was sure Sherlock had gone far enough away for him to hear. Molly nodded as a reply 'i'm off in an hour i'll just need to find a dress' she whispered following Greg's example.

'I'll get one to you by the time you're off, i'll have Sally drop it' he stopped talking as Sherlock walked back into the room.

'Mrs. Brown will be pleased to help Sally it'll take a bit of money but i'm sure you can handle that' he said sitting himself back down in front of the microscope.

The last hour went by in silence Greg had left with a scoff not long after Sherlock had shooed him out of the lab by telling him that he was thinking too loudly, and Molly soon found herself on the way home.

There was a box in front of her door no doubt with the content of a beautiful dress, and perhaps even some shoes.

She gasped when she opened the box, the dress was made of a red silky material, it was strapless and had a corset body before it spread out from the hips and reached all the way to the floor. The shoes matched the colour of the dress and even though they were heels Molly was confident that she could manoeuvre them, even though she'd never had a particularly good relationship with shoes like that.

The was a small note from Greg on top of the dress and shoes _'i'll pick you up at half past six.'_

She glanced at the clock and realised she had to get a move on if she wanted to get ready, she pulled out the dress and shoes placing both on her bed. Then she grabbed her strapless bra and the matching knickers quickly pulling both on.

She ran to her bathroom and dabbed on a bit of makeup, blush, mascara and a bit of eyeliner, she chose to let her hair hang down, only curling it slightly at the tips.

It took her quite some fighting with the dress before it slipped up her body but when it was finally fitted to her it stayed in place wrapped around her petite body perfectly.

When the bell rang she threw her black mantle coat over her head and descended the stairs as carefully as possible.

'Wow Molly you look absolutely stunning' Greg exclaimed as soon as his eyes fell on her. Molly blushed slightly at his words; he wasn't exactly the worst looking man possible so the look he gave her he sent just a small shiver down her spine.

Greg explained a few things to her during the drive, who she was supposed to be and what to look for while she mingled.

Her name was Angélique Bellerose and she was the youngest member of a very high-ranking French family, the reason as to why no one had heard much about her was because her family preferred privacy, and had kept much to themselves, spending most of their time at their château in the countryside of France.

The story had been validated by Mycroft who'd spread just a few rumours after Greg had texted him about Molly's agreement to go undercover. Mycroft as the British Government was never doubted much, so people had spread the word further which meant that everyone who was something knew about her.

Molly had been mingling for an hour when Sherlock stormed through the entrance looking positively livid; he scoured the room for something turning his head in all directions when his gaze finally landed on her.

He took a few steps towards her before Greg's hand on his shoulder stopped him, the DI whispered something in his ear and even though Sherlock didn't look pleased he made no further movements towards her.

She continued chatting with as many people as possible keeping her eyes out for anything suspicious. She did also keep an eye on Sherlock feeling just a bit safer with him here; she made sure to read the expressions on his face knowing she could tell if he saw something fishy.

The evening was rapidly coming to an end and Molly had almost stopped looking since she'd believe something would have happened by now, which was why it took her a bit longer to realise that Sherlock was yelling and running towards her.

A shot sounded through the room and Molly felt a sharp pain running through her chest where the projectile had hit her, she fell to the floor having just enough thought in her head to soften the blow with her elbows.

'Molly' Sherlocks scream travelled through the few people now between them.

She looked up at him when he landed on his knees next to her noticing just how frantic and scared he seemed.

'Well I suppose the jetset life really is going to kill you' she said with a small giggle as she pulled out the small nine millimetre bullet from the Kevlar emitted in the corset of her dress.

'Oh don't make jokes Molly' Sherlock erupted before pulling her in for a passionate kiss, surprising not only the woman receiving the kiss but also their friends, and of course Mycroft.

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><p><strong>Please let me know what you think :3<strong>

**The French phrase means - My grandmother was French and well known in French circles, she even found a famous actor after the death of her second husband.**


	2. How To Save A Life

**The song is by The Fray and I think it's fits beautifully with our favourite couple.**

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><p>He'd come to her a few hours ago asking for her help, and he'd told her she counted.<p>

She didn't really know if she believed anything he'd said other than the fact that he needed her help, but that was all that mattered, her helping him stay alive.

Sherlock had explained everything, how there was a sniper focused on John, Mrs. Hudson, and Greg, and how if he didn't kill himself they would all die. He informed her that he knew of thirteen possible scenarios and that Mycroft was in on it all having helped to plan them all out.

He informed that she was needed in each and every one of these scenarios.

They ran through them and discussed her whereabouts in each and every scenario, talked about what she was supposed to do, and what she would need to do it.

She'd fallen asleep on her sofa halfway through the night while listening to the soft hum of Sherlocks deep voice still muttering ways this could all go wrong and his gentle pacing over her living room floor.

She woke to her name being whispered closely to her ear stretching out willing her eyes to focus and her body to work back into life.

'I have to go now, you should move into your bed you'll sleep much more comfortable there and you need to be alert when I text you' he quickly brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear and then he was gone.

Molly did as he'd said as soon as she'd found it in her to move her tired limps, she slumped into her bed and tossed around it for a while as she tried to find a cosy position. It took her longer than usual no doubt the weight of the oncoming day's tasks taking its toll on her drowsy mind, but before long sleep overtook her again.

She woke to the sound of her phones shrill ringing tone signalling her to get up and get ready for work. She stretched out the quirks and kinks in her body slowly remembering how she'd been doing most of the evening and night before and her eyes snapped open.

She hurried out of bed after that rushing to find some clothes with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. She scurried around her kitchen putting together a quick breakfast of toast, jam, and coffee before she ran out the door only barely having gotten her pea coat on.

She had to rush up the stairs when she remembered she'd forgotten her bag and that her door hadn't been locked and she barely made it to the lab in time.

She scuttled through the drawers in her desk pulling out things she might need, she knew the act of doing so seemed stupid, but it calmed her down as it gave her some sense of control in the situation.

Her phone signalled with an incoming text message and it caused her erratically beating heart to jump into her throat **LAZARUS**

She swallowed her nerves thankful that this was one of the scenarios where she was least needed, she only had to insist on doing the autopsy and to help nurse Sherlock back from whatever injuries he might sustain.

She saw him when he passed the window and she froze in fear, every possible setting of how it could go wrong passed through her mind. She hadn't even noticed that her feet had brought her to the window, she took in a deep breath of air when she saw John crouched over the body of Sherlock and for some stupid reason she couldn't help the tears that spilled from her eyes.

Chaos erupted around her as soon as everyone realised just what had happened and she willed her feet to bring her to Sherlock and to get him away from the growing crowd.

She'd had to watch people pull a crying and screaming John Watson away, had to see people pick up a bloodied and very dead looking Sherlock from the pavement, and she had to listen to people saying that they knew he was a fraud all along without being able to punch them in the face and telling them everything Sherlock had just sacrificed to save those he cared about most.

Her shoulders were slumped and her cheeks wet from crying, she supposed it was perfect that she was crying because of the pain etched on Johns face. Sherlock would be very pleased with her authenticity, and Molly couldn't help but give a broken snort of a laugh at the ridiculous situation she was in.

She'd gone through the _thankfully _few injuries on Sherlocks body and had taken care of them as well as she could and now all she could do was await the arrival of Mycroft.

A rattling noise disturbed her from her thoughts and she whipped her head around to Sherlock who was shaking badly on one of the cold metal slabs. At first she had no idea what to do but she realised that he was most likely in some kind of shock from the exhaustion of the day.

She ran to his side and started speaking soothing words really unsure on what else she was supposed to do. She raised a hand tentatively to his forehead and started stroking the dark curls away, letting her cool hand run over his almost feverish skin.

Shortly after Mycroft and a few of his men had arrived and a "new" body was dragged into the morgue, the still unconscious Sherlock had been dragged off to the back and Molly had been led with him.

''We'll be bringing him to your flat Miss Hooper he'll most likely be ready to leave in the morning after a nights rest.'

Molly barely registered Mycroft's words butted nodded her consent even though she knew she didn't have much to say in the matter. Besides she didn't want Sherlock to go anywhere else, she wanted his last night in London to be a safe one.

Molly had been too hyped up to fall asleep especially since she'd appointed herself to the sofa so Sherlock could have her bed. Around midnight he'd woken drenched in sweat and Molly had been at his side within seconds of his quiet yelp. She stayed with him after that once again running her fingers gently through his curly hair.

He'd mumbled a thank you when he'd registered just who was taking care of him and he'd soon fallen back to sleep with a deep sigh and a slight relaxation of his tense body and muscles.

She'd fallen into a somewhat light slumber an hour before the sun came up and Sherlock started to stir in her bed, and she was woken by his hand pushing gently to her shoulder.

'That can't be comfortable Molly' he muttered silently as if he almost hoped she wouldn't hear him.

'I have to leave; Mycroft's men will be here to pick me up in about fifteen minutes.'

Molly raised her head slowly and nodded, unwilling to speak and break the awkwardly nice calm that seemed to be between the two of them.

Somewhere between the time they'd gotten to her flat and before midnight Molly had packed a bit of food in a sealed container somehow knowing it would calm her if she knew he had something to eat with him on his trip, even though she wasn't sure he'd even consume it.

She turned around when she heard him enter her living room now dressed and ready to do what had to be done.

She awkwardly pushed the box of food into his hand, took in a breath before she pulled him in for a hug. He pulled away from her slowly and caught her gaze.

'You sure know how to save a life, Molly Hooper.'

She was about to argue that she hadn't really done anything. But he grabbed her hand in his, a small smile grazing his face before he planted a soft kiss on her cheek and leaving her flat for who knew how long?

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><p><strong>Please do leave reviews, they always make me happy :3<strong>


	3. Imagine

**The third story in this little project of mine, it was written up rather quickly XD**

**The song is by John Lennon, and i'm afraid the story is a little bit angsty with a major character death :(**

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><p><em>Imagine<em>

_Just imagine what we could have had Sherlock. If you loved me._

_Imagine the small cottage in the country, the beehives and the small front garden where the bees would buzz around collecting their nectar._

_Imagine our kids, the little but timid girl with her father's eyes and her mother's upturned nose. The boy with his lanky build and curly hair._

_We'd name our girl after your mother and our son after my father_

_The visits we'd get from John and Mary pulling their own kids along._

_Our wedding would have been beautiful, small, but beautiful. You'd be wearing a tie even though you'd complain about it; you'd do it for me._

_We could have had all that, if only you loved me._

_But you don't_

He'd found the letter on his bed, _their_ bed, and he knew she'd left.

He hadn't expected the phone call, hadn't expected the news.

'It's Molly, she's dead.'

She'd been preoccupied, she'd been crying as she'd been running away from the flat and she hadn't seen the car coming.

So now here he was, she'd asked him to imagine and he had but never this.

She'd said if he only loved her.

'But Molly I do.'

He left her grave in silence, and he never went back.

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><p><strong>Again please leave your lovely reviews, they make my day ^^<strong>


	4. Somewhere Only We Know

**The band is Keane the song is great ^^ I paired this story with the 'met in a book store' au and the story is rated M.**

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><p><em>16 years old<em>

He'd been coming there every summer the small bookshop in the side street of the village his grand parent's lived close to. It was a sanctuary whenever his parent's would fight, a place where he could go and disappear from the world, where he could read about science and study people in silence.

He'd never seen her here before, the girl currently curled up in his preferred chair, the one hidden in the back of the large bookshop.

He considered asking her to leave, to give him back his sanctuary. But he chose to stay hidden behind the shelves, chose to study her instead.

_Old trousers if the hems have anything to say about it, her family doesn't have a lot of money. A tired expression, her parents fight a lot too. Jumps at small noises, one or both parents might be taking it out on her._

He'd kept gazing at her for a while but came to the conclusion that it would be best to leave before she spotted him.

He came back the next few days to watch her only staying a couple of minutes like he'd done that first day he'd seen her.

After five days she was gone again.

_22 years old_

He'd stumbled through the door he'd taken drugs but they were wearing off and his body was growing tired. He'd barely even been able to remember the bookshop as he hadn't been there for years.

She was there again, the girl – how he remembered her, especially in the state he was in he wasn't interested in knowing. –

He didn't remember collapsing to the floor the only thing he could remember were big brown eyes looking down at him, and a soft voice lulling him to sleep.

_23 years old_

The brown eyes, the only thing he remembered from that night met him one day when he stormed through the doors to the morgue of St. Barts.

He'd been clean and working with NSY for eight months.

He could tell that she recognised him but he ignored her and they never discussed it.

_31 Years old_

He was back in London after almost six months away taking down the web left by Moriarty and for some reason he found himself back in the familiar bookshop.

He had a few leads to follow but for now he needed something he knew, some place safe and warm.

He was wearing a disguise but it didn't come as a surprise that she'd recognise him.

He only heard her gasp before she was pulling him close and holding him to her in a grip so firm he was sure she'd never let go.

He couldn't help but chuckle besides it was nice to know there was someone missing him, someone who knew he'd come back.

His mind blanked when she pulled on the lapels of his coat and planted her lips firmly on his.

Like the last time he'd been here his whole body seemed to be working in the lowest gear but after concentrating his arms finally reached around Molly's waist and pulled her flush against him.

He knew it was wrong of course, knew pulling up her skirt and divesting her of her knickers in the back of a bookshop was wrong. People could come walking in on them at any minute but as her lips travelled down his throat to suck at his pulse point, he just couldn't find it in him to care.

She made quick work of unzipping his trousers and pulling out his already straining cock. He allowed her to stroke him but swatted away her hand after a while, turning her around and pushing her up against the shelves.

She raised her arms and grabbed one of the racks holding up some of her own weight as he placed his hands on her plush arse and she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist securely locking her feet together at the small of his back.

She bit his should as he pushed into her with one deep thrust, muffling her moans and heavy breathing. He gave a grunt at the feeling of her teeth biting down into his skin.

Molly gave a giggle before lifting her head to put her lips back to his effectively silencing both of their gasping noises. He had to applaud her for her quick thinking.

He pounded into her roughly, silently thanking some god he didn't believe in that the shelves were fastened securely to the floor and walls so people were less likely to realise just what was going on.

'God Sherlock you feel so good' Molly groaned into his mouth as she neared her climax.

He gave a couple more thrusts and they were both panting out their orgasms.

'Oh god i'm so sorry I should have acted like I didn't recognise you shouldn't, i've just missed you so much, and the last six months have been so lonely and.' He placed a finger on her mouth to stop her from speaking and moved it to her chin so he could lift her face and make her look at him.

'I'm glad you recognised me Molly' he said smiling down at her to show her that he had no regrets.

'But what if other people recognise you?' She replied with worry in her voice as she moved her teeth over her lower lip.

'No one saw me I can assure of that, and after all Molly this is somewhere only we know.'

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><p><strong>Please remember to let me know what you think, every review, like and follow are much appreciated :D<strong>


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